


Home Sweet Home

by GuilTPleasurez



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 11:54:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13410726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuilTPleasurez/pseuds/GuilTPleasurez
Summary: Art Request for Greece and Turkey first meeting.





	Home Sweet Home

**Author's Note:**

> Art Request from Deviantart: https://guil-t-pleasurez.deviantart.com/art/Home-Sweet-Home-request-Missplayer-416362897

He found him in a box, surrounded by meowing balls of fur. The boy was so still that he could have been asleep – or even dead – save for the fact that his green irises were suddenly revealed with he blinked. The two stared at each other in silence; the elder frowned, the younger looked on in calm indifference. 

The boy’s clothes – a simple white cloth, smeared with rain and mud, tattered and torn – and his long, dark hair were both glued to him by way of the rain that seeped through the flimsy lid of the soggy cardboard remains. His eyes, wide and dark and seemingly full of an intelligence far beyond his age, glanced suddenly away from the man that stared down at him. Instead, he looked around at the cold, wet, complaining cats.

“…Kitties,” he murmured in a voice so soft that his words might have been lost on the wind if it had not been for the distraught undertone that made them ring with strength.

Turkey was startled by the sudden voice; he hadn’t expected the boy to speak. He had presumed him mute. The tall man sat carefully, attempting to avoid a puddle of rainwater, but slipping and landing in it anyways. He shuddered involuntarily at the sudden icy chill that seeped through his clothes. Forced himself still. “Yes, those are kitties,” he began, trying not to move.

That sounded stupid.

He tried again. “You shouldn’t be out here on your own. You’ll catch a cold.”

That was a little better, but he still sounded like somebody’s mother.

The boy regarded him calmly, but there was a slight flicker of amusement in his emerald eyes. “…You sound like somebody’s mother,” he noted, still speaking in that same nonchalant tone even as he cut straight to Turkey’s core.

He tensed, anger flickering through him for a split second before he managed to successfully smother it. He frowned at the young boy. “You’re a rude one, aren’t you?”

“That’s a matter of opinion.” He squirmed free of the box, causing a short avalanche of startled kittens. When the boy rose to his feet, he stood just barely at Turkey’s chin, and the older man was still sitting on the wet earth. “You’re tall,” the kid pointed out. He sounded interested, but still looked like he really couldn’t care less.

“Well of course I am. I’m an adult after all.”

“…What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

"What's an adult?"

“Well… an adult is somebody that… um…” Turkey was stumped for a moment. He quickly decided on, “It just means that I’m older than you.”

“But how do you know if you’re older than me?”

“Because I-” He broke off as realization dawned. He stared at the boy with wide eyes hidden behind his white mask. “Hey wait a minute… Are you a new country?”

The boy nodded solemnly. “I am Greece.”

He grinned. “Great! I’m a country as well. My name’s Turkey.”

Greece turned away, a frown tugging at his lips. “I don’t recall ever asking you for your name, stupid man.”

The grin dropped to a frown. “Wow, you’re really rude.” Turkey got back to his feet, almost slipping but managing to stay upright. He put both hands in his pockets and turned to leave. Stopped. Glanced back at the silent country behind him. “If you don’t want to stay in the rain all day, then you might as well come with me.” He shrugged. “I don’t really want to take in a brat like you, but if I have to then I suppose it can’t be helped.”

“I have no desire to stay with someone like you,” Greece shot back quietly. But he stumbled forward and grabbed onto the man’s cloak even so, following him and leaving both cardboard box and mewing kittens behind.

* * *

He was already starting to regret his decision to bring the young country into his home.

Turkey sighed, dropping to one knee and trying to lift the couch with both hands. “Come on, get out from under there already!” he growled, losing patience fast. His muscles strained, but the couch was too heavy. He soon lost his grip on it, and it crashed back down.

The long haired child squirmed out from under the couch. Stared intently at the Turkish man. Stuck his tongue out at him. Ducked back under before Turkey could grab him.

“Get out here!” Turkey ordered again, angrily.

The reply was muffled from the bottom of the couch. “No.”

“Why not?!”

“Because I don’t want to.”

He tried to lift the couch again, but in vain. He sighed once more to show his annoyance; not that the kid seemed to care. “I’m not going to help you if you get stuck.”

Greece squirmed out again, glaring at the taller man. “I won’t get stuck. I’ve climbed into tight spaces a thousand times before, and I can always climb out.”

He threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine, suit yourself.” Standing, he walked out of the living room and went to the kitchen. He returned a short time later, carrying a plate with a simple sandwich. He sat and placed the plate near the couch. “Hey, kid.”

Green eyes glared at him from under the couch. “What do you want?”

“You should really be nicer to the guy that brought you food,” he remarked.

Silence. Then, “Food?”

“Yup. I made you a sandwich.”

The boy was quiet for a moment longer before asking cautiously, “What kind of sandwich?”

“Tuna. You like cats, right? And cats like tuna.” An arm shot out, reaching for the sandwich, but Turkey quickly pulled back the plate. “Nope. You have to come out if you want the sandwich.”

The glare returned. “I hate you.”

“You have to come out to get the sandwich,” he repeated, voice teasing now.

There was another break of silence, then Greece’s upper half squirmed free of the couch. He struggled to free himself, then stopped suddenly. “… Uh oh.”

“What? You’re not stuck, are you?”

The young boy glared at him. “No, of course not.” He struggled to get free, but stopped again, no more free than before.

Turkey laughed. “You are stuck, aren’t you?”

“No!”

Still chuckling, Turkey reached over and grabbed the boy by the hand. He gave him a tug.

“Ow.”

His smirk faded. “Geez, you’re wedged in pretty tight.”

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not. You’re totally stuck.” Standing again, he grabbed one edge of the couch. “Scoot backwards under the couch so you don’t get squashed.”

“I can handle the weight of a couch, stupid,” Greece retorted, but even so he disappeared from view.

Turkey leaned his weight against the couch and tilted it backwards, just like how he had before. “Try to get out now,” he grunted.

Greece obeyed, looking unhappy as he scrambled out. Turkey dropped the couch. Before he could recover from the weight he had previously held, Greece dashed forward and grabbed the sandwich. He moved so fast that Turkey had only time to yelp before the young country was gone.

He groaned. “Now where did the little brat get off to…?”


End file.
